A Brighter Tomorrow: My Journey with Julie

I look Stinger in the eye and tell him a superstar like Julie doesn’t need an old basketball court to prove herself. Julie lifts her chin and looks down her nose at Stinger’s scowl. In fact, she has a better idea. She picks up the ball from the sideline, tosses it over the heads of T.J. and Stinger, chases it down, and dribbles off down the sidewalk toward Gladrags. We all tear off after her.

I ask Julie where she’s going, and she whispers back that she means the secret steps. San Francisco has plenty of stairways built into its hills, but I’ve never heard of a secret one. We run for several blocks until Julie stops at a leafy grove and gestures inside.

Panting, we step in and peer down a long flight of steep steps, practically hidden in a canopy of green leaves. Lush trees and flowering vines line both sides, like a scene out of The Secret Garden. Small cottages sit among the trees, their front yards facing the steps.

Stinger asks why we’re here. Julie explains that we’re doing a speed dribble relay, Stinger and T.J. against the girls. Each team has to bounce the ball on every step, down the stairs and back up, then tag a teammate, and whoever finishes both rounds first wins.

T.J. and I look at each other hesitantly. The steps seem to stretch on for blocks. Stinger tells us to get ready to be creamed. He and Julie ready themselves at the top of the steps and grip the railings tightly.

I count them off, and they start down the stairs. Julie grabs the lead, but Stinger catches up to her at the first landing. He sneers and dribbles wider, giving her less room to maneuver, then goes too wide himself, and their basketballs collide and go careening down the steps. Julie and Stinger race after them, T.J. and I close behind.

We watch helplessly as the balls gain speed with every bounce. Finally, they collide one last time, and each ball flies off in a different direction. Then comes the crash of glass shattering and clinking on the pavement. Stinger snatches up the ball that landed in a small courtyard. Julie stands very still in front of a small red and white cottage, her eyes glued to the broken window. Her ball is gone, somewhere inside the house, where dogs bark wildly until a man’s voice shouts.

Stinger tells us all to run. He tucks the basketball under his arm and leaps up the stairs. T.J. bites his lip but follows, and the rest of us scramble up after them. As soon as the boys vanish over the top of the steps, we hear a door slam and the dogs’ barking grow louder. Julie pulls me off the steps into some bushes as we decide what to do. Peering through the leaves, we watch an elderly man walk out onto the steps, his dogs jumping and barking around him, the basketball in his hand.

Julie asks if we should go back down to face the man. I hesitate. Why should we go without Stinger and T.J.?

I whisper that Stinger should take the blame, since it’s his fault. If he hadn’t dribbled into Julie’s space, this wouldn’t have happened.

Julie looks at me with sad eyes. She points out that this wouldn’t have happened either if she hadn’t dragged us to the secret steps in the first place.

I point out that it doesn’t seem fair to surrender without the boys. We could go down and tell the man what happened, but he might not believe our story without them there to back us up.

Julie lowers her eyes in disappointment, admitting it feels wrong to leave the scene of the crime. But if we go looking for the boys, we might not even find them, and even if we did, we might not convince them to come back and share the blame.